Beautiful Doubt
by Her Honour
Summary: Lovina encounters Netherlands while she's having doubts about Antonio. They discover they are much more compatible than they gave each other credit for. But previous relations complicates things. Fem!LovinoxNetherlands Fem!LovinoxHolland
1. Chapter 1

"There is more hunger for love and appreciation in this world than bread"

Mother Theresa

Section I

"…_Then _he fucking thought it would be a good idea to pour it down the drain. What a fucking retard. Who fucking does that, right?" Lovina said; her arms still crossed as she vented to her long-time friend. The only friend she really could vent to and not get a negative feedback like her younger brother would. Veronica nodded and smiled, accepting the foul words as they walked into her house.

"Sometimes I really don't fucking understand what goes through that fucking mind of his. Fucking idiot." They both continued and she swore and cussed left and right and Lovina took it upon herself to plop down on Veronica's couch as her blond friend continued into the kitchen to get drinks. It _was _rather hot after all. Lovina growled a little, releasing a breath as she sunk even deeper into the soft material of the couch.

"_Grazie_, for inviting me over." Lovina said after maybe a minute of silence. Veronica walked in, holding a couple of bottles of water and still wearing a slight smile.

"No problem. I like spending time with you, Lovina." Belgium said, sitting down and handing the foul-mouthed Italian a bottle of water, which, immediately screwed the cap off and proceeded to take a gulp of water in a rather un-lady-like fashion. Belgium didn't seem to mind at all though.

"Hmm, do you want some tomatoes? They're in season." Belgium offered. Lovina stared at her for a few seconds before putting a hand over her stomach, as if deciding she was hungry enough to have one. Or two.

"Sure. I wouldn't mind some." She wasn't normally this polite either. If she was talking to Spain, she'd insult him that that was a stupid question, then demand he goes out and buy her some. But this was Veronica, her friend, not that dumb ass Spain. Belgium smiled and she set her bottle of water on the wooden end table and grabbed her keys.

"I'll be back then; you want anything else while I'm at the store?" Veronica was way too nice. Lovina noticed that many times. She was the type of person who'd be willing to give you anything you need without the thought that perhaps she was being used. Though, she had to admit, she had a real fighter side to her too. Lovina blinked and shook her head.

"Just tomatoes would do; grazie." The Italian responded. Belgium nodded and she went to the door, looking back slightly, as if she was about to say something. But she chose not to, and she opened the lightly-colored door and closed it behind her. Lovina took another gulp of water as she stared at the painting of tulips that hung on the walls. She could hear Belgium start up her little Beatle and drive off to the little corner store about five miles down the road. So that left her alone in Belgium's little house. Lovina stood up and looked at the painting. They really were sort of pretty, although artwork was never really her forte, which was more Feliciano's style. The scenery, the tulips looked so familiar. Like they weren't just hung up for decoration. Like they had a deeper meaning to them.

But a knock at the door made Lovina jump a bit from being knocked out of such a deep thought. Belgium didn't mention anyone else coming over though. Cautiously, Lovina set down her water and she went to the door. It wasn't like she was mortal. So what if the person standing at the door had a knife… or a gun… or some other device used to maim someone…

"Ciao?" Lovina said, her voice coming out a little weaker than she intended to. _Because you're freaking yourself the fuck out. _She told herself. Lovina opened the door and was met with a much taller figure than her. His hair was pale brown, on the borderline of being blond and his eyes were a mix of green and blue. Though, with the compliment of his white and blue scarf it looked a bit bluer. But the scar on his forehead reminded her.

"Netherlands?" Lovina asked; her voice now stern. Netherlands looked around, completely avoiding eye contact and actually pushing past her to look around, his boots was loud against the wooden floor.

"Hey! Who the fuck do you fucking think you are!" And she didn't feel guilty at all when she said that. She knew this was Veronica's estranged brother. Netherlands still apparently seemed to be pretending she didn't even exist, which really only pissed her off even more.

"Hey! Asshole! Are you fucking deaf or something!" And at that, Netherlands turned around and stared at her. He didn't say anything. He didn't have any emotion on his face at all. Just… stared at her. This was really freaking the shit out of her.

"Uh… I mean…" Lovina suddenly felt a little flushed. Not because she felt guilty or anything for cursing at him, if he wasn't being such an asshole she wouldn't need to. But it was the way he was staring at her. Like he was a fucking sociopath or something. Netherlands didn't wait for Lovina to finish talking though, instead, he just interrupted her.

"Is Belgium here?" His voice was monotonous, cold; deep. But, strong. Something Antonio's voice almost never was. Lovina glanced around.

"She just left." Lovina said. Then she looked out the window and then back to the Dutchman, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Did you fucking _walk _here?" She asked incredulously. Netherlands sighed, yet again ignoring her and continued to look around. She remembered Netherlands never really did talk much. But she assumed that was just because he hated being under Spain's control. Veronica told her later that was just how he was. _"He's a bit of a downer."_ She remembered Belgium saying. And she knew Belgium really did love her brother, but the two siblings were just different people altogether.

"I just wanted to talk to her." Netherlands finally said. And at first, Lovina thought he was just talking to himself, until she finally caught him looking straight at her from the corner of her eye.

"Fucking pedophile! Why are you just staring at me!" She yelled; growing more and more agitated. Netherlands didn't move a muscle, he just looked at her and Lovina really regretted choosing today to wear a bubble-style skirt, exposing her olive-toned legs. But then again, she really didn't expect accidently letting Belgium's brother into the house. Leaving them alone. Just the two of them.

"Don't call me that." Netherlands said after a while, he adjusted his scarf looking perfectly calm and then reached into his pocket, probably his fucking storehouse of shady drugs and got his signature wooden pipe out.

"I just have shameless preferences." Netherlands said softly, grabbing a little baggie of questionable aspects and opening it, grabbing some of the grassy-looking substance and stuffing a bit of it in the pipe. As he put it away, he glanced towards Lovina once more.

"If you were just a bit younger you'd be my type too." Netherlands said passively. Lovina's eyes widened, feeling offended.

"Fucking bastard!" Lovina stomped her foot, and Netherlands barely glanced over as he lit his pipe. Lovina blinked.

"H-Hey! You can't just fucking smoke that in here!" Lovina walked forward a bit, but winced as Netherlands blew some smoke into her face, probably on purpose to keep her at bay. Fucker. If Antonio ever did that to her… well… he never smoked… so he never would have done that. Plus he's way too much of a lap dog and suck-up to ever even think about offending her like that. Lovina started to cough from the smoke and her eyes started to tear up a bit, which she immediately started to wipe away. She looked up and Netherlands walked right past her and started gazing at the pictures.

"So she kept them." Netherlands mumbled. Lovina stopped for a moment. _What the fuck is he talking about? _Lovina looked at him, his bluish-green eyes intensively looking at the spring-colored paintings.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Lovina said, and actually realized he hasn't once said anything about her cursing. She walked closer and looked at the paintings to, just mimicking his actions. Netherlands glanced over at her before focusing on the paintings yet again.

"I painted these." Lovina almost got whiplash from turning her head so fast. Netherlands? She looked at the tall country again. His pipe in his mouth, creating a fire-hazard. _He _painted all these? They were fucking beautiful. It was actually right up there with Feliciano's caliber of skill. But she didn't expect somebody who was such a _downer _like _Netherlands _to paint something so… cheerful. Lovina pursed her lips slightly from the confusion.

"_You!_" She asked, her pitch rising just a bit. Netherlands took another drag and he raised an eyebrow at the Italian girl.

"You don't think I could paint such a thing?" Netherlands asked. Lovina half-expected his tone to be offended, or even humorous, but she heard neither. There was no specific tone. Lovina was silent, not exactly sure how to answer. She has never been in a situation such as this. She actually felt threatened. She felt offended. Like she wanted to cuss at him, to scream at him, but that cold face just made her think that if she tried anything… he _would _hurt her. Netherlands didn't wait for her to answer, his boots practically hammered the floor; even Lovina could feel the vibrations of each of his steps. She's had similar experiences when the potato bastard, Germany, walked around. But his steps were more sophisticated, organized. Netherlands' steps were… crude.

"I painted those for Belgium, as an apology present." Netherlands went on to say. Lovina couldn't help but really notice his features. His skin tone was just like Belgium's. And when he moved slightly, the golden rays of sunlight that streamed from the window reflected off his skin and it reminded her of peaches. Not that she really like the fruit, she much rather preferred tomatoes.

"She wasn't as receptive as I hoped for though." Netherlands sighed and looked away.

"You two never fucking got along much anyway." Lovina said, before she could really think about it. Netherlands looked at her, his expression still unreadable and Lovina backed away, but Netherlands made a stride towards her, and that was more than a match for her tiny, weakling steps. _Oh God, he's going to fucking kill me. _The thought raced through her mind. A wave of panic spread through her. _That's what my foul mouth ultimately leads me to. A fucking beat down in Belgium's house. _She thought again. He was right in front of her now. He was bringing his arm back. Oh God.

"You just love making me angry don't you?" Lovina was expecting a slap. A punch. Not that she wanted one. But that's what she thought she couldn't escape. But instead, he was meant by a gloved finger, poking her directly in the forehead. Lovina opened her emerald eyes and looked up at him. He stared at her blankly for a few second before he trudged back to where he was. Lovina couldn't comprehend what just happened.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Just.

Happened?

* * *

Whoot! I got this wonderful plotline from RP-ing for my first time on Twitter! I got a second twitter for RP-ing and I play as Lovina Vargas, I just find we have so much in common attitude wise. And I started to RP with Netherlands and I thought, why isn't this couple more commonly seen? It's either Netherlands/Spain or Romano/Romana/Belgium. But Lovi and Netherlands are both tsunderes and IDK When I think of it they are so cute! So I hope y'all like it! Review!


	2. Chapter 2

"So much alarmed that she is quite alarming, all giggle, blush, half pertness, and half pout."

George Gordan Noel Byron

Section II

Lovina was used to two different men. Men who were way overly flamboyant, men like Francis. And then, men who seemingly had no brains. Her prime example was Antonio for that. The country of passion was really all that he claimed to be. Passion. Passionate kisses, passionate hugs, passionate compliments. But that was all to it. There was no logic to it. Netherlands seemed to be nearly the complete opposite of Spain. Spain was cheerful, always smiling, always a moron. Netherlands was silent, calm, solemn, and in all her years Lovina could not recall seeing Netherlands ever smiling. She was lucky to ever even slightly catch him smirk or even turn his lips upward a bit, but she knew if she ever saw him grinning, she better go to the confessionals and repent.

Netherlands was not like any man Lovina had encountered. He was logical, and private, much like Germany. But he also strived for individualism, unlike Germany, but similar to Sweden. He had a rather short temper, unlike Sweden but similar to Denmark. Netherlands just had so much complexity it was difficult to keep up. It was new. It was interesting. But something about it, knowing all those things about Netherlands, made Lovina hesitate. Even when she was younger. She used to be scared of him.

Netherlands would sometimes go into fits of rage, not exactly violent, but he gaze would hold all of his anger and he would just radiate negativity. He had so much anger it trumped Lovina's childhood rebel stage ten times over. Belgium often reassured her it wasn't anybody who was particularly ticking him off, just his views of things. And Lovina believed her. Lovina believed it wasn't Spain's control. That it wasn't being forced to submit or be dependant.

So she was confused with this interaction, because she couldn't hide behind anger or violence like she normally did. After Netherlands poked her forehead he walked back and he gazed at each of the paintings before he finally turned again and went into the kitchen. This was bad. Lovina felt somewhat responsible. She accidentally let Netherlands in; if he trashed the house she knew Veronica would be upset. If he did, she had the thought maybe she could blame anything on a rabid raccoon. Did raccoons exist in Belgium?

"I need a drink." Netherlands mumbled as he opened the fridge like he owned the place. Lovina stood at the doorway, a look of shock etched on her face. Fearing he'd find the beer Belgium hid at the back of the fridge, she immediately rushed to the end table in the living room and grabbed her bottled water. _This is fucking bullshit. _She thought to herself. It was, but she didn't want to be fucking beat by saying it aloud.

"Here, take it." Lovina said; Netherlands looked up from his search in his sister's fridge and at the auburn-haired girl, rudely holding out her bottle water to him. Netherlands stood up, towering once more over Lovina and he took it, unscrewing the cap and taking a long gulp. Lovina scoffed and crossed her arms.

"You better not fucking backwash, don't be a fucking pig." Netherlands could have argued with her. Say that she was the pig with that mouth of hers. But, he didn't think it was really worth the stress to waste more weed on. Which; was a very good argument to himself by his standards. Netherlands wanted to have some fun though. Something to get his mind off some things. He finished and handed back the bottle.

"And what if I did?" Netherlands smirked slightly. Lovina stared straight at him, then glanced to her bottle, then stared at Netherlands again, unable to tell if he was really kidding or not. But her eyes narrowed.

"Then I'll fucking bury you in the damn backyard." She threatened and tossed the bottle back, which Netherlands surprisingly caught. For a pothead, he definitely had some fast reflexes on him. Netherlands smirked just a bit at her.

"Feisty one aren't you?" Netherlands commented and proceeded to walk back to the living room. Lovina could feel herself flush and her eyes widen with humiliation and objection. How dare he say a thing like that to her! She felt like punching him in the face. But as she took a light step, Netherlands turned around, making her freeze and now panic. _Fuck, just what the fuck is he going to do now? He snorted fucking crack didn't he? He's going to fucking snap isn't he! And Belgium's going to get home with my brains all over the damn walls. _She really needed to stop freaking herself out. But it was a little difficult with Netherlands stomping around with that cold face of his.

"…You're lucky I don't hit women." Netherlands said to her. Lovina could feel herself sweating under his gaze. He turned around and kept walking, and Lovina felt herself start to breathe again. He was such a fucking freak. He was a pedophile and a used all types of shady drugs. She furrowed her brows and looked at him from the distance. She crossed her arms and walked in the living room, leaning against the frame of the roman arch.

"So it's luck?" Lovina said softly. Apparently, it wasn't soft enough. Netherlands turned his head, a bit confused, but his face still didn't reveal much if anything on what he felt.

"What?" He asked. Lovina jumped a bit, uncomfortable with his bluish green eyes on her.

"It's none of your fucking business." Lovina shot back. Netherlands stared at her for a while, and she prepared some curses and phrases to use against him when he persisted. But he didn't. Her prideful feeling of being able to cuss him out were automatically shut down as Netherlands just went silent and started to look around. But… that wasn't supposed to be how it played out. He was supposed to keep asking her to tell him what was going on, what was on her mind. Not be silent after she tells him off. If it were Spain… _Just stop right-fucking-there. _She had to firmly say to herself. This wasn't Spain. Spain groveled at her feet for her love, for her to even _look _at him. He gave her all the power.

She wasn't used to being so… rejected for attention. Netherlands' passiveness annoyed the shit out of her. He really didn't care if he knew everything about her or not. He seemed to really not even _want _her attention. It was certainly something she wasn't used to. But why the fuck did she even care? It's not like she cared if she had his attention or interest or anything. _But fuck, you could be less of an asshole? _ She thought.

"You know, a big fucker like you, you think you could at least beat that stupid bastard, Germany at football." And that, with Lovina's always-lovely comments, the shit hit the fan. Netherlands' eyebrows furrowed and he stood up from crouching over to mess with a couple of buttons on Belgium's DVD player and he stalked over to where Lovina was. And angry Lovina being Lovina, for once held her ground. Seeing who would bluff-out first.

"He cheated." Netherlands hissed out. Lovina narrowed her emerald eyes at the Dutchman. Something told her she shouldn't use his defeat by Germany as an insult, but she just couldn't help herself. Not when she was getting such a big reaction.

"Having more fucking skills than you doesn't qualify as fucking cheating." Lovina said, sticking her nose up. But after actually letting her words sink in, her Italian brain registered she actually _complimented _the potato bastard. Her head snapped back down and her eyes narrowed.

"Actually, I take that the fuck back; I actually would have preferred you won than stupid Germany." The Italian corrected herself, closing her eyes in a stuck-up manner. What surprised her wasn't Netherlands staring at her blankly yet again, but what surprised her was when he roughly grabbed her earlobe. Something she's only ever seen Austria do.

"OW!" Lovina yelped from the sudden pain, but she didn't dare and struggle. Netherlands still wore the blank look as Lovina flailed her arms about; trying to give every indication she was in pain.

"Hey! Where do you fucking get off! Fuck you! Fucking let go!" Lovina screeched. She flailed her arms around, careful as to not tug against Netherland's seemingly death-grip hold on her. Finally, after hearing a soft chuckle over her curses and swears to bury him in the rose garden, he let her go and Lovina retreated like a kicked dog.

"Fucking asshole!" Lovina cursed; holding and rubbing her ear. Netherlands smiled slightly.

"It's fun to mess with you." Netherlands said, making Lovina scowl.

"You-!" She wanted to call him all sorts of names, all sorts of insults she kept in her arsenal for whenever Spain got her really pissed off. But she didn't even get the chance to.

"What the hell is going on here?"

* * *

I know, dolls. I hate cliffhangers too. I loved all the good feedback I got! I'm in love with this couple and this story now! Haha. I love RP-ing on twitter. So much. I hit so much drama recently it's a good place to go to to just de-stress. LOL. I noticed though some things are out of order from how me and my friend Netherlands tweeted, but this way I think it flows just a bit better. And I'm added a couple of stuff to make the story last a bit longer. XD

Reviews are appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

"And now here is my secret, a very simple secret; it is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye."

Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Section III

Lovina dared to look over at the voice and for some reason her stomach sunk automatically. Because she knew, somehow, her interaction with Netherlands was wrong. She could estimate that from the guilt ball growing in the bottom of her torso.

"Veronica"

"Veronica." They both said in unison. Netherlands' voice for once carried a tone. Sort of… relief… that his sister was finally home. Lovina looked at her friend, her curly blond hair shined in the twilight beams and she carried a little woven basket of tomatoes. Belgium looked at the two of them, trying to register why her best friend was currently in the same room of her estranged brother. Lovina decided she better speak up first.

"Veronica-"But her blond friend decided to interrupt her. Belgium set down the basket and opened the door.

"Lovina, I'm sorry, I'll drive you home." Lovina was going to say something, but she glanced back at Netherlands and he looked… he looked like he was putting on a fight face. Like him and Veronica were about to have a verbal fight. She decided her words really weren't going to help in any way. The auburn-haired girl nodded and made her way to the door, stopping momentarily to look at Netherlands. She felt somewhat sorry for him. Even though he was a tremendous asshole.

"I'll talk to you when I get back." The iciness in Veronica's voice was more than evident, actually it was downright scary. Lovina chose to continue to Veronica's vintage car. She stepped outside, already hearing hushed whispers, mostly from Veronica. Lovina ignored it, fearing being yelled at her; or lectured and she got in the passenger seat, buckling up for safety. She winced slightly as Veronica stomped across the front porch and yanked the door open and practically jumped in, slamming the door after her. Belgium sighed angrily as she put the car into ignition and gave Lovina an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry Lovina; I didn't think he would come over so early." Veronica seemed nearly focused on the road, but she kept glancing over to Lovina, and it was concerning her a little. Lovina decided to keep focused on the road for her, bracing herself slightly. She loved Belgium, she was like an older sister to the Italian, but Belgium was just as bad a driver as her. And even without traffic.

"You knew he was going to be over?" Lovina didn't exactly mean to yell, but Belgium swerved around the corner it just made her voice rise with panic. Belgium, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice the panic in Lovina's voice. She either got used to Lovina raising her voice in the years she shared a house with the girl, or she was used to people having panic in their voices when she drove. Southern Italy came to the conclusion within seconds it was a mix of those two options. Belgium started to look a little uneasy though.

"He's my brother, Lovina. And you know we haven't really… gotten along." Belgium said a little softly. Lovina's emerald eyes glanced over. _Fuck, anybody could fucking see that. _She thought. Belgium sighed though, rather loudly, and she re-adjusted her hands on the steering wheel. Her driving was still crap despite this.

"I thought we could sit and discuss things. But… he came earlier than I thought." Belgium said, and they rounded yet another corner, causing Lovina to hold her breathe and brace herself the way she would on a steep roller coaster ride.

"Well, you say it like it was a problem." It sort of was, but Lovina didn't really want to say it. Belgium held her tongue, but looked over at Lovina nervously. Lovina was now wondering why it would be a problem.

"Is it?" The Italian asked. Belgium's eyes flickered, and it seemed that she was arguing with herself if she should tell Lovina anything. But she sighed, and that signaled to the other country that she figured it was best after all.

"Netherlands knows Spain's connection to you. He thinks of you as 'Spain's girl'." Belgium nodded her head, waiting for Lovina to catch her drift. It made some sense. Lovina and Antonio never really declared they were a couple, but from the outside you could easily be fooled into thinking they were a hopelessly-in-love couple. But they fucking weren't. But with Netherlands, just that thought that she and Spain were banging behind closed doors would be enough reason for him to hate her too. Lovina decided to look out the window.

"So… did anything happen? Did he say anything to you?" Belgium pressed. Lovina stiffened slightly. What was Belgium assuming? The Italian couldn't say that nothing had happened; Belgium just didn't want to accuse her of anything and had decided to just simply ask her instead. Because Belgium trusted her to tell her to truth. Lovina glanced at the road and shrugged.

"I hit him and he yanked my fucking ear." Which was the truth, it happened. Veronica seemed to be staring at her. Like she was expecting her to add something else like they found some secret cave in her closet or something out of the ordinary for her character like that. But nothing like that happened. Lovina stuck to her usual facial expression and stared at the road, because obviously Belgium sure wasn't.

"Oh." Was all Belgium said in response and re-settled her hands on the little bug's steering wheel. The audible sigh though coming from the Belgian was what caught the other females' attention.

"Something… wrong?" Lovina asked curiously. There was a slight pause as they rounded a corner and made their way up the driveway that led to the villa where Lovina was currently staying with Spain as some sort of live-in nag. Lovina seemed to be expecting an answer, but it didn't come as the car stopped and Belgium sighed once more to bring her pale hand over herself to unbuckle herself.

"Want me to walk you in?" Belgium smiled. Lovina paused herself, just a bit confused.

"No, it's okay." Belgium nodded, completely understandingly. Lovina stared at her for a second more, and then she just proceeded to open the door and get out. The Italian thought she could hear the other girl say something, but she was more than sure it was the creaking of the old door of the old car that she had repeatedly told Veronica to get rid of. But Veronica always just insisted it had sentimental value. Lovina made her way on the tiles on the stairs and then to the entranceway to pull out her small key Spain had given her to open the door.

"Grazie! Ciao!" Lovina said, quickly turning around to wave to Belgium. She didn't wait for a response however, for she just as quickly turned back around and unlocked the door. She couldn't remember a time she had opened a door so fast to get into Spain's house. And like any other paranoid freak, she rushed inside and almost slammed the door back closed, locking it for protection for all the dangers that lay outside. She pressed her hands on the cold oak of the door. It felt so stiff against her hands, so… _unmoving_.

Netherlands felt like stone under her hands.

"Lovi~! You're back!" Spain's annoyingly cheerful voice snapped Lovina back into reality. Actually, it scared her to be shocked from such a deep involvement with cloud nine. Especially the subject she went to cloud nine to begin with. Spain stopped at hearing Lovina gasp with shock and how she jumped and turned.

"Are you alright, Lovi~?" Spain started to approach her, his characteristic bright, happy smile started to fade and was replaced with slight worry. Lovina looked down at his feet while shaking her head, furrowing her brows.

"I'm fucking fine." She answered. But this time she knew she was lying. Spain really frowned, his brain trying to register everything except Lovina's crude language.

"Lovi~ I missed you." Spain moved forward to hug her but Lovina simply walked past him, completely ignoring his attempt at physical contact which, in reality, meant nothing.

"I'm going to my room." Spain said nothing in objection as his steps started to slow, until, they actually came to a stop. Just in time for him to hear the loud slam from Lovina's door.

* * *

Spain didn't understand it. Lovina had been so… rude. Of course he knew she was rude to begin with. Some people called her a bitch but… he saw past all that. She was just a distrustful person. She was just the type who would hurt people before they have a chance to hurt her. But… she didn't seem angry. Lovina always seemed somewhat angry, and that was normal for the Italian. He stood in the middle of the foyer, just forcing the wheels in his head to turn faster and faster, struggling with all his might to put the pieces together. Was she seriously mad at him for something?

Did she hear about how he went to visit France when she left? He knew how much Lovina didn't like it when he visited big brother France without her. Something about how he didn't notice things. He knew she was angry this morning, but he just assumed she would get over it like every other thing. But this, just completely ignoring his actions and not insulting him in any way… But he just couldn't understand what was going on.

He decided maybe he should pick some tomatoes later.

* * *

Sorry this took so long to put up. I loved the reviews for the last chapter! Keep them up, please! Also, I have yet another idea for a fic so a new fic is probably coming up as well!


	4. Chapter 4

"It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that is has begun."

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Section IV

Lovina hadn't seen the Netherlands in a long time. Back then she always just thought he was scary and big. He still was. But now… she actually _saw _him. He was… attractive, actually. She had to blink herself out of that thought process. But he was. He was beautiful in a sense that his sister was beautiful too. Pale hair and eyes, and pale skin. Yet, as pale as everything looked, almost like air, nothing solid, she felt when she touched him, it would be like velvet. Soft to the touch for something looking so delicate.

Spain was always sort of gruff. Admittedly, Spain's skin was never soft. His lips were nearly always chapped or rough when they kissed, and his hands were calloused from either fighting or working long days in the tomato garden. Lovina brushed her hair, staring at herself aimlessly in the long vanity mirror. She had Spain's hair color. Antonio had pointed that out constantly.

"_You have my hair, you are my child." _

"_We're meant to be! We have the same hair color, Lovi~!" _

It was almost sickening. She hated how she simply switched in and out from being his child to being… whatever else. Like Antonio couldn't make up his mind of what he wanted Lovina to mean to him. Something to protect, or something to fuck. And honestly, it hurt a little bit. Not that she really cared what the bastard thought of her, but the stupid Spaniard couldn't just keep changing his mind. It wasn't like she was in love with him or anything. But she _used _to be. She used to cry whenever Spain would run off and visit Ukraine. God knows that girl was well endowed, and her thought was: "Who would return to a bitch-fit when they had the opportunity to spend time with such well… _nourished _countries like Ukraine?"

Especially because he never told her where he went sometimes. Almost like he was hiding everything from her. And it wasn't even like he needed to, they weren't anything official. Even though they lived together they slept in different rooms. They kissed and they had even slept together a couple of times, but those were special cases in which obviously didn't change anything or contribute to whatever relationship she doubted they would ever have.

She set her brush down with a loud clack on the desk, the hard wood hitting the oak. She would have to talk to him. She decided that that bastard Spain would probably be on the edge of giving her half of his land thinking that she was angry at him or something. But thinking that wasn't a very large stretch of a thing to assume. She may as well bring up their relationship. After all, even Belgium had brought it up, questioning, looking for anything definitive only to be disappointed when in reality, it was everything, but nothing. But she never really had given much thought to her and Spain's relationship. It always seem to naturally unspoken. As if labeling it with anything would taint it and make it turn to dust when it became daylight out.

Lovina had just grown so used to not having many relationships. Communicating and charming other countries was Feliciano's job. Other countries had usually avoided her due to her mouth and her natural nastiness towards men except for certain countries which she didn't mind at all. But… even why she lived with Spain was a whole question by itself. She owned her own house. She just never went there for the night. And it certainly wasn't the address she signed off to when she was doing paperwork. Lovina normally thought it was okay, since Feliciano lived in Venice, and only one of the siblings had to live in Italy.

But it wasn't okay. There was something mysteriously and horribly sick about her living with Spain, sleeping with Spain, yet not defining what they were. And she couldn't use the excuse that they simply loved each other either. Because they didn't. Sure she would be devastated if he fell as a country, but other than that…

They really weren't more than allies. Political wise. He stuck by her because she was the other half of the twin he really wanted. It was like settling for the second choice. And thanks to his light demeanor he somehow fooled himself into being happy with that. But things had to stop. She just couldn't go on like this. She couldn't remain here, stuck with Spain and keep him locked in a certain timeframe of their relationship. She knew he deserved to get into a relationship. Antonio deserved to be respected and share his love for public displays of affection, and that was just something Lovina couldn't give. She walked to her door and she pressed an ear to it.

Lovina could hear Antonio murmur to himself, along with the sounds of a knife chopping against wood. He must be comforting himself. He had a tendency to do that. Whenever she would sulk off he would begin to cook and simply try to make sense of it by thinking aloud. She decided to open it and began to step down the stairs, and she was in view of Spain; for he jerked up and made a half-smile at her as she made the rest of the way down. His attention returned to chopping the onions carefully and calmly. She could hear her flats touch the tile of the kitchen as she walked to the counter.

Lovina had opened her mouth to speak, but Antonio had already beaten her to the punch.

"How did you find out?" Wait. One. Fucking. Second.

Southern Italy's eyebrows crinkled in confusion, but she decided to play along. She readied her heart for this. From Spain? Was this a… betrayal confession from Spain? Of all people? Lovina took a deep breath and continued.

"You're pretty fucking sloppy." She put in. Vague enough that she couldn't be wrong on details, but specific enough to still make stupid Spain to believe she knew what the fuck she was talking about. Spain looked up, his face serious.

"Lovi… I…" He looked away, setting down the knife. Lovina tried to restrain her anger.

"I was going to tell you soon. I love you, Lovi." He looked away again, and Lovina didn't even know what he was talking about but she was still being overwhelmed by the hurt she felt.

"Don't you fucking say that you bastard." Lovina hissed at him. The Spaniard looked up at her, looking as if he was a kicked puppy. Not like Lovina would have any sympathy for that though. Antonio let his head drop and he sighed, bringing a hand up and running it through his hair.

"Lovi… I knew you wouldn't take this well." Antonio said again, his voice filled with woe. Lovina crossed her arms, like she was expecting him to explain.

"Me and… Victoria… We…-"

"I don't want to fucking hear it." So he was seeing somebody else. Lovina turned on the balls of her feet and she headed for the door.

"Lovi!" She didn't want to hear any of it right now. All this time. He was already moving on. Although, why shouldn't he? He had just as much of a right to happiness as she did. But she was going to talk to him. Try and establish something. Was it best to fully live apart? Or… perhaps… finally establish they were together. All the feelings that she had managed to keep away had returned. And jealousy arose like a snake from a pot. Just waiting to strike at something. She headed out, and made sure to slam the door behind her. Why did she feel this way? Was it really only betrayal she felt?

Spain didn't come chasing after her. Right. Because she wasn't the secret girl he was seeing. Lovina sniffed and she just kept walking. Unfortunately, she could already feel a fucking blister forming at her heel.

"Damn shoes." She mumbled. _Was it because she couldn't clean well? Was _Victoria _good at cleaning? _She shook the thought off. She actually didn't want to know. And… she didn't care either. Right. She didn't care. She bent down quickly and took her flats off, carrying both of them using her fingers. She kept walking. _Where the fuck am I going? _Lovina tried to think where she could go. Maybe Veronica's. Veronica would accept her, right? Does Veronica know about Victoria? She hoped not. She worried for half a second, would Veronica as well prefer this… _**Victoria **_over her? Would everyone?

"Need a ride?"

The voice came so suddenly, it actually scared Lovina a little. Not that she would actually admit it, but she jumped a little and whipped around. She didn't even hear the sound of a bike coming. The tall man on the bike kept going, slowing down a bit as if he was trying to catch up to her. Though she couldn't find an idea on why someone would actually do that.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Lovina asked, not bothering to turn around, she could hear skidding to her side and finally she slowed her pace. Netherlands was silent, just looking at her while she tried her best to keep her composure. No way she'd let a bastard like Holland see her at her weakest.

"You look like crap." Holland said again. Lovina scowled, but still didn't want to look at the bastard. Even if the sun was making his skin glow in a seemingly magical fashion. Now he was insulting her. So, if she said anything it would come back out as a sincerely rude insult. Holland didn't seem to be given up, and she figures she must be wearing a truly despaired look instead of a usual scowl she tried to plaster on.

"Something happen?" He said this as he glanced back at the huge house that belonged to Spain. Obviously belonged to Spain. Lovina had decided the only way to get rid of this stupid bastard was to simply give him boring answers. Or answers that by her assumption, would make her come off as rude and make him avoid her like most of the other countries did. He still remained silent, like he was just waiting for her to answer. Like she _had _to answer him. Fine. She'll give him a fucking answer. Just to get rid of him.

"Fucking Antonio. Who else?" Lovina said, exasperated. But the thing was, Netherland's still didn't respond. The ex-tomato gang member just stared at her. Not with any particular emotion either (this she could pick up from the corner of her eye). She sighed and glanced over, giving him a nasty look.

"It fucking sucks finding out you're the one who hasn't moved on." Lovina answered. She glanced over, not really feeling angry but… relieved. Now that she had said it aloud it was almost as if she could look back on it and laugh. He still didn't say anything and Lovina took that as incentive to keep talking.

"The the fucker thinks he has to tend to me, what bullshit. I was going to be the one to fucking dump him first. Not that we were fucking dating or some stupid shit like that." She had started to ramble. Netherlands said nothing of approval, but not disapproval either. He just… listened. And the thing was; that Lovina didn't feel like she had to hold anything back. Once the words of pure, raw emotion, and nothing prohibited; started to roll off her tongue, they just kept coming.

"And to think he's been hiding a girlfriend on the fucking sidelines just pisses me off. Who the fuck does he think he is? It's not like he's _that _fucking attractive. And why the fuck didn't he kick me out or something? I have my own damn house. He could have fucking said something. Honestly he's just fucking up his own fucking relationship with that… whatever the fuck her name is." Actually, the Italian really could remember the other girl's name. She just didn't want to say it. She let out a breath and groaned, actually turning her head to look over at Holland, who, somehow was managing to keep pace with her on his bike. After a while he just remained silent, glancing from her to the road in front of him.

And to think she was actually thinking he was good counsel.

* * *

I kinda switched Netherlands' with Holland occasionally. Because they're called the same anyway and it's referring to the same country. Like Britain and England. In a way. Correct my dumb ass if I'm wrong. I hoped you guys liked this chapter. Reviews are very much loved! And thank you guys who did review! You brightened my days! This is a apology chapter for being away so long and I decided to get this out before I got real busy with state testing. Hope this brighten's y'alls days too. Muchas amor! ...

My Spanish sucks.

My boyfriend rolls his eyes at me too. (He's fluent in Spanish, and while I love his accent, he loves my gringa way of attempting Spanish to him.)


	5. Chapter 5

"Great passions, my dear, don't exist: they're liars' fantasies. What do exist are little loves that may last for a short or a longer while."

Anna Magnani

Section V

"What?"

How long has it been? Lovina hadn't even realized she had been staring at him. Up until Holland actually looked at her and lifted a brow at her. His deep, almost mechanical voice made her snap in attention and she immediately looked away. If anything was embarrassing, it was being caught staring. Looking down at the dirt, she made a scowl.

"I was just expecting some sort of fucking token of advice or some shit." She cursed rather angrily this time. Holland stopped, and placed a steady foot on the ground. Lovina stopped as well and looked at the dirty blond curiously. The tall Dutchman released a sigh (Lovina actually found this odd, she didn't think Netherlands actually breathed clean oxygen, but only breathed in smoke from either marijuana or tobacco.) and set a hand on his thigh. _His strong, muscular thigh; which Lovina had no doubt that that one thigh could support all of her weight alone. _**Odd. **The Italian had no business thinking such thoughts like that.

"Listen, just get in the basket." Thank God he was actually talking. Lovina might have thought she was a fucking freak or something, complaining and talking about her problems with him and then finding some sort of weird attraction to his thigh.

Wait. What did he just say?

Holland looked away momentarily, almost like he was posing for some photo that was never going to happen. The number one reason because Lovina didn't have a camera. And the second reason was because the Italian just wasn't a freak like that. …Other than checking out his thigh or whatever. But that was a complete fluke.

"Are you going to take a picture or what?"

"What!"

"Nothing. Are you going to get in the basket?" Holland turned his head at the brunette who just looked around awkwardly. Was he actually talking to her? Was he giving Lovina the ridiculous command/ or rather an inquiry? Lovina looked at the basket, in consideration; it really wasn't all that big. Maybe big enough to fit a few groceries and a couple of books perhaps, which Lovina assumed how he carried his daily meal. But it was just a regular cubical, woken basket. Surely she couldn't-

And suddenly, Lovina could feel herself being lifted like a kitten. Strong hands picked her up by her waist and lifted her up. She felt almost frightened, as she didn't even notice Netherlands use the kickstand on the pathetic little bike and get off. While she was inspecting the piece of mediocre machinery she found apparently she could, in fact, fit inside the little basket. But… just her waist. And her long, tan legs stuck out awkwardly.

And the one emotion she felt struck her heart unexpectedly. Like, the little hammer thing that hit the chord in the piano whenever Austria played one of his famous symphonies. Just one little hammer-like emotion. And, what was more confusing was that it was a feeling that she didn't belong there. She didn't belong in that little basket, because she was obviously not fit or small enough for it. Like she didn't fit in Spain's love life. Her language ran a little too foul… Or her refusal to ever accept (or even admit) that she truly was in love with the idiot at one point of time. And the only thing that eroded that affection away was the constant mantra of "He doesn't love me." Or even the occasional, "It'll never work," if she happened to feel particularly masochistic.

Lovina jolted a little when her whole body shifted to her left, and she grabbed the edges of the woven thing (she was actually surprised the bottom hadn't collapsed from under her weight, maybe her new diet was working?) and she heard a slight chuckle behind her.

Did Netherland's just chuckle?

"Calm down, I just moved the kickstand." Lovina stopped to turn her face, mostly to scowl at the rude bastard, but she stopped. She could feel his warm, peachy breathe of her cheek. She could feel him just so… _**close**_. And to think she actually wasn't already screaming at him for bursting her personal bubble. Netherlands shifted once more and he actually started to move the damn contraption.

She would have much rather be transported around in a Bentley or even a Lincoln if Netherlands wasn't such an informal man. They had rather large trunks actually.

Lovina was definitely spoiled.

"Why are you blushing?"

"I'm not fucking blushing." Yes she was.

"Yes you are."

"Shut the fuck up." The wind felt nice though. Spain never owned a convertible. He was a man more for practicality than looks. Though he did spoil her with goose-feather comforters and the Bentley to go for drives in when he would give her a tomato and not care if she spilled some of the precious juice, the most she ever got was just having the window open. Lovina hated how her hair got messy without a roof anyway.

"If it makes you feel any better. I have an idea of what you're going through." Holland said after a while. His voice no longer felt weird when she could hear it directly behind her. Lovina made sure to stare at the road ahead of them. But the tiny statement made by the Dutchman made her a bit curious. Curious enough anyway to actually make her want to know what he was talking about. Was he talking about Veronica? Was his affections towards his sister wasted because he knew deep inside that she actually only put up with him _because_ they were related? It must have been hard. To try and try and fucking _try_ to make their relationship as siblings comfortable and easy once more, only to have it taken with a weak smile and pathetically taken because what else could Veronica do?

Belgium was way too nice to just tell her brother she didn't even want to talk to him on a daily basis. But, Lovina didn't want to ask. She really didn't. And it especially wasn't her role to really open that can of worms anyway, if Holland even answered her.

"Here, I know what can make you feel better." What the hell. Netherlands didn't know a thing about her. How the hell would he know how to make her feel better? She opened her mouth to speak like a sailor once more, but a sudden turn on Netherland's bike made her outburst turn into nothing but a gasp and Netherland's even sped up the damn thing!

"You're gonna fucking crash!" Lovina yelled, trying desperately to scoot herself deeper in the basket. What caused even more fear in her was the sadistic laugh Netherlands released from his mouth as he sped up even more, even going as far as standing on the pedals! The leaves that were on the road were blown off and scattered by the wind of the rushing bike. This bastard was definitely on something, and she half-wished that she was on something too so she wouldn't be currently dying of a heart attack.

He suddenly turned, and Lovina was more than sure that she was close to fucking pissing herself. Netherlands hurriedly kicked the kickstand down and he swung his leg over. _His strong, powerful legs… I wouldn't mind being put over one knee- _**Oh what the fuck. **

"You okay, hun?" Lovina's eyes finally re-focused and she noticed Netherlands, stupid, stupid Netherlands looking at her, with his gloved hands on his waist. One eyebrow lifted just a bit in weird curiosity. The brunette country looked at him, her eyes wide in fright and trauma. Then her look of fear was quickly exchanged for a huge scowl and just a plain face of unrated anger and fury.

"No! I'm _not _fucking _okay_!" She screamed. Holland nearly winced at the mere tone Southern Italy was hitting. There was no way any normal person, except maybe opera singers could reach that high of a pitch on a normal basis. Then the girl focused on her position in the weaved basket. Lovina struggled and she would have tipped over, screaming if not for Holland's quick and focused hands.

And there it was.

A quiet moment swept over the two as the blond druggie, both of his hands on the edge of the basket that Lovina was stuck in, and Lovina… the delicate brunette when she was quiet… her face tilted down a bit. And the sunlight hit her face in such an odd way Netherlands was sure nobody had ever seen before. Her cheeks started to flare up… making it a glow a pink tinge. Her arms shook a little before she brought them up, her thin arms –probably thinner than usual thanks to her recent diet splurge-. She her hands made their way onto Netherlands' biceps, holding onto him for support.

He could hear her breathe. His hands left the basket and eased up to Lovina's waist. Southern Italy gave no protest as he lifted her out. Lovina could feel the muscles through Holland's jacket. But she refused to look at him in the eye. She simply kept her eyesight straight ahead, actually looking at the blue and white scarf he almost always wore for as long as she could remember.

* * *

HOLLLYYYY FUCKING CRAAAAAAP. This took fucking forever to get out! And I apologize for my language. But I've been like... on Twitter and DA and with my boyfriend and *ahem*, yeah. So sorry guys this took so long. I left it for the longest time and just now I added like six paragraphs and said, "this is okay" and now posting because I know a certain someone may have already passed out by now! XD Love ya!


	6. Chapter 6

Netherlands was pretty sure something was going wrong in his chest. He swung around and did put Lovina down. Her little odd curl bounced as she hit the ground. Neither of them winced, however, when the bike did hit the ground with the sound of metal hitting dirt. Lovina blinked and she hugged herself, pretending that she was cold and was distracted by that fact. Netherlands knew better. And he knew exactly what was going to happen next. All those years, he noticed Lovina. Whenever she grew frustrated in not being able to rise to the same level as her perfect cook and cleaner sister. Whenever she grew desperate for that idiot Spain's attention but made a facade in saying she didn't give a shit. In reality she did. The Italian took one look up, and the Dutchman didn't fight it at all when she hopped up, wrapping her arms around his neck in an embrace and met her lips with his. Fuck. He fucking _welcomed it_.

They both knew they needed this. Whether they actually felt anything for each other, or if they really did just needed a good fuck it didn't matter. It was happening. His hands pressed on the small of her back and he sort of wished they had a better spot that out in the damn wilderness. But Netherlands supposed that when pure passion and being horny hit, it didn't matter where they were. Lovina demanded his attention when she started to lick at his lips, running her small hands through his light auburn hair. He already lowered her, all while trying to get some leverage. He already grew hard and Lovina knew as well, and it seemed to egg her on all the more. Netherlands had to detach his lips from hers as he started at her neck, and she spread her legs while she moaned incoherently, lost in whatever good feelings she was feeling. Not like he was really one to talk, he was so caught up in the friction he was feeling against his dick.

"I'm not a virgin." Lovina stated. Netherlands had to look up at her, with an uncaring look. But he was a little curious.

"Spain?" A shake of the head, Netherlands also didn't stop in the pleasure train he tugged his gloves off and knelt up to take his jacket off, laid it beside them and lifted Lovina to lay her on top. Screechy little bitch was going to scream his ear off if her outfit got ruined by what they're doing.

"Gilbert. Stupid asshole. Drunk off our asses and he was on the rebound from another rejection from Hungary." She said it all so fast and so much disdain it sounded almost rehearsed. Who knows? Maybe it was. He couldn't blame her. Living in the shadow of her sister and grandfather she grew so bitter and used to being second or the reject he almost pitied her. Almost. If she ever knew that she'd kick his ass.

"I don't think you're a rebound." He murmured as his thumb ran over her clit. Lovina hummed in pleasure and her blush seemed to deepen. She breathed another moan and took off her shirt as Netherlands went ahead and took off her panties. To his surprise, it was a thong. He could only wonder how Spain would allow her to wear such a naughty thing. Especially since they prided themselves to being good Catholic people. His erection grew harder at that thought. She leaned up, seeing his seemingly careless expression but the warmth his body was giving off said differently on what he was feeling. She lifted his shirt slightly, and kissed his stomach, leading down and down and down until she reached the hem of his pants. She made no hesitation and sliding them down and pulled down his boxers as well.

"Don't think I fucking give a shit about you because of this." Lovina said grabbing a hold of his dick and before Netherlands could say anything about her dirty mouth, she showed him the true definition of a damn dirty mouth. He wasn't all that surprised. She was a skilled lover being Italian and all. After a last, sultry lick, she stopped and leaned back, opening her legs to a wet pussy, telling Netherlands physically what to do next. He didn't need any hints to know what to do.

* * *

"Fuck." He fucking knew it.

"There's a fucking stain." Lovina said, not taking the time to point it out. She threw her shirt back on and looked around, brushing her skirt clean. Her annoyed eyes were directed at him.

"You're not fucking keeping my underwear are you?" She asked. Holland shrugged.

"Maybe you shouldn't have been wearing such sexy lingerie." He said, dangling the black and red lace thong. Lovina made a slight scowl, but not a screaming fit like Holland thought she would make, she just mumbled a low "asshole" before she looked away and ran her hands through her tangled waves.

"I'm not a whore." Lovina said suddenly with some seriousness in her voice. Then … she actually did look ashamed. She only really slept with Spain and occasionally Gilbert and maybe sometimes the good-looking Spain look-alike when she was drunk. But nothing that actually turned into something. Her relationship with Spain was something that was there before she slept with him. And even that… that obviously wasn't enough seeing as he had _Victoria_. Whoever the hell she was. Netherlands felt a small ping of guilt. Something he could emphasize with. That sort of empty rejection they both knew was there, but neither wanted to acknowledge and much preferred to pretend it didn't exist. Him with that want for something again with his sister. And Lovina for that attention, honest, attention from Spain.

"I never said you were." Holland said, fully clothed and pulling a blunt from his pocket. The Italian eyed it, but she chose for once not to voice her disapproval. Drunkard had no business lecturing Holland about his vices anyway. She played with a strand of hair and actually looked around while Netherlands relaxed even further with his handy blunt. A breeze passed by and Lovina noticed the trees. Light colored petals fell. But they weren't those stupid cherry trees Japan raved about all the time. Those weren't even native here.

"They're called peach trees, dipshit." Lovina whipped around so fast Holland almost thought she would have gotten whiplash, but the face she made told something different. She must have not been so used to be talked back to, which Holland thought he was right in thinking. After all she lived with **Spain.** Lovina otherwise ignored him though, turning around without saying some sassy-ass comment back. But she glanced up, seeing some evidence to what Holland had said.

"We should go." Holland could hear Lovina said. He was so obliged and grateful that she said something… but yet… he felt something in his chest wish he could stay. And even weirder thing was he actually didn't mind being around Lovina. And it wasn't just because he got some.

"After all I wanted to go to Belgium's house not fuck around with you." Lovina said with a little too much distaste, Netherlands simply responded by blowing pot smoke in her face. It stunk. She stunk. She stunk of desperation, sex, and now the pot smoke that entered her pores. He leaned down farther, seeing how still and deep her eyes became.

"Well maybe _I_ want to fuck around with _you_." The Dutchman took another drag before he stuffed the blunt into her mouth. Little Italian seemed to not know what to do with it at first, but she figured it out and as usual, first puff started off with a couple coughs. Amateurs. He could have rolled his eyes but chose not to for the sake of simply her embarrassment.

"Hold it in for a bit, stupid." He spoke calmly. Mostly because of the marijuana. Lovina eyed him for a bit, her eyes already getting a little glossy. She took a drag correctly this time and released the smoke from her lungs, she didn't seem too amused and waved the smoke away from her in a disgusted manner.

"How can you do that shit all day?" Lovina said, starting off towards the bike and gestured for the Dutchman to hurry the fuck up. Calmly, he followed, making sure to make a grab for Lovina's tight ass that made her shriek in surprise and she quickly turned to glare at the blonde.

"Asshole!" She screeched, and then he realized Lovina seemed to be back in character. And at this he couldn't help but smile. Same old  
Lovina. Ever since he'd lived with Spain he always had a sort of… spot for her. When he didn't fit in conversations between his sister and the bipolar bastard he would be entertainment for the small brat. When he left though the only person he thought about missing was his sister. And oddly enough Lovina never entered his mind again for a while. A breeze went by.

"Get on the bike." Netherlands wanted to ask, but it somehow came out as a sort of demand. Lovina obeyed though this time, her dark green eyes glossed over and wandered over to the trees again. Netherlands was focused on mounting it while not knocking Lovina off. She was tiny enough to not take up space, though not in the basket this time but she balanced herself on the frame while still keeping out of Netherlands way behind him. He settled in the seat and he could feel her hands latch onto his shoulders. Somehow it sent a small shudder through out his body and he assumed he took some ecstasy without remembering. He should really sort through his drugs at some point.

"They reminded me of you." It was the tone of her voice that really stopped him in his tracks, that and the feel of her head lean against his. Her hair falling onto his shoulders as well and he turned to attempt to look at the little Italian.

"What?" He made a grimace.

"The peaches. When you lived with us… there was a peach tree too." Lovina spoke softly. Almost lyrical like how her sibling spoke.

"Are you on acid or what?" Netherlands questioned, but didn't wait for an answer. Belgium should be home, and he proceeded to bike with a for-once calm and somewhat happy Lovina pressed against his back which he didn't mind one bit.

* * *

Fuck, I'm so sorry guys. I read some reviews and I know I've been pulling a huge American over here and assuming Holland = Netherlands. I worked on this some more and somewhat fixed it but I just didn't have much time for it. I had it half way done for the longest time and I'll give y'all an update because indeed, it has been about a year. Sorry guys, I love y'all for sticking through with me for nearly a year!


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